Quick Transmigration: Yandere Male Leads? Hand 'Em Over! - Chapter 248

The serpent, lost in the warmth of skin-on-skin contact, suddenly went stiff from head to tail. Those obsidian eyes of his churned with dark, unspoken undercurrents.

Mo Yu didn’t dare assume.

Was that what she really meant?

She wanted his… tail?

She was so small, so soft—her delicate skin bruised red just from brushing against his scales. Even his slender tongue had trouble…

His mind blanked out like an explosion in a fog.

Mo Yu couldn’t think at all. His body gave in to her whim, letting her guide his icy, firm tail tip to the warm, wet spring at her core.

This was bad—he really was going to drown in her.

She could be wanton, reckless, do as she pleased—but Mo Yu had to force himself to cling to reason. Otherwise, he’d hurt her fragile body far too easily.

The sweet, intoxicating scent of her body flowed along his slick scales, spreading throughout the entire alchemy chamber, completely smothering the bitter herbal scent in the air.

Furnace bodies were naturally prone to arousing passion. The closer the contact, the deeper the craving. Once ignited, desire became an uncontrollable, vicious cycle.

Mo Yu didn’t manage to pull himself away from the haze of lust until two hours later.

He hadn’t noticed anything while cradling her in his coils. But once he unwrapped and laid the little cultivator on the bed, the shocking marks across her icy skin became all too clear—almost like she’d been ravaged.

He deeply regretted his earlier indulgence.

His first instinct was to lean in and lick her wounds, but he held back, afraid of making things worse.

Their physiques were complementary to an almost dangerous extent. To each other, they were practically the strongest aphrodisiac known to existence.

The more he thought about it, the more Mo Yu believed they were heaven-made for one another.

He was secretly thrilled.

But then came the other side of the thought—he clearly liked her. But did she… actually like him?

Did she like him, or just his body?

Light and dark had never coexisted peacefully. Even if she liked Mo Yu, would she still want him once she knew he was actually Qi Linchen, Demon Lord of the Abyss?

Mo Yu didn’t dare think further.

At least for now, he was living in a peaceful bliss he’d never even dreamed possible. If the day of separation ever truly came, then be it through stealing or force, he would drag her back to the Demon Realm.

Shaking off the heaviness in his thoughts, he fetched a basin of warm spring water from the courtyard, then returned and gently wiped her body clean with a soft cloth. After that, he opened a jar of healing balm.

But even just dipping the tip of his tail into the ointment to apply it made his breathing go ragged. The brief touches were already testing his limits.

He barely managed to restrain himself.

If he took advantage of her now, how would he be any different from that despicable beast, Qingxu?

Mo Yu took a long time to calm down. Then, shrinking himself down to the size of a thumb, he slithered into the basin to bathe, dried off thoroughly, and finally crawled quietly back onto the bed.

He slithered up her smooth, white thighs, stopping at her lower abdomen. Her skin carried a faint, soothing fragrance unique to her—it made his heart clench.

Suddenly, an absurd thought struck him—

Now that he’d shrunk… he might fit.
He might be able to bury his entire—

He cut himself off before the thought could finish.

He couldn’t keep tormenting her like this. She already worked herself to the bone cultivating every day. He had to be a little more considerate. Once her strength improved, she wouldn’t tire as easily.

Coiling up beside her, Mo Yu finally closed his eyes.

Su Ci slept deeply.

That earlier bout of fierce intimacy—though it hadn’t gone all the way—had still been exhausting. Mo Yu had handled everything, and she’d been the one tossed around like a plaything, the one left crying and spent.

She had no idea that an injured demon could still have such overwhelming stamina. Even without crossing the final line, he’d still managed to reduce her to a puddle of helplessness.

Even in her dreams, she felt the slick pressure of scales sliding over her. Like cold jade—smooth, sinuous—grinding against her nerves until she trembled.

Tears slipped from the corners of her closed eyes.

“Don’t… stop…”

Crystalline drops gathered at her lash line, still unformed, when a red tongue flicked out and gently licked them away.

Mo Yu’s eyes were like a frozen pool beneath starlight—deep, dark, and disturbingly intense.

He frowned.

She’d clearly liked him during the day, clinging to him, never getting enough. Why, then, did she seem so frightened and resistant in her dreams?

If she didn’t want him… then who?

That flute-playing Xiao Zhuo? That talisman-painting Yin Jingze? That sword-dancing Senior Brother Jingyuan? That blacksmith Yue Xunzhou?

Or worse—that manipulative scum, Qingxu?

The other useless men he could grudgingly tolerate. But if she had any interest in Qingxu… absolutely not.

Fortunately, she was asleep and unaware that Qingxu had already tried several times to visit her recently.

A weasel wishing the chicken “Happy New Year” was never a good omen.

Mo Yu—Qi Linchen, the Demon Lord himself—naturally saw it as his responsibility, as her future husband, to shield her from unwanted pests.

Down at Yuheng Peak, Immortal Qingxu, rejected for what felt like the hundredth time, still hadn’t realized that the “Su Ci” he’d seen was merely an illusion cast by Qi Linchen.

Ever since seizing her Glazed Cauldron, Qingxu had felt a gnawing guilt. Even in meditation, he couldn’t escape the intrusive thoughts of her mistreated expression that day.

His cultivation had stagnated, futile and unproductive.

The war with the Demon Realm loomed near. If he didn’t ascend soon, it would be too late.

He’d been feeding Ye Lingtang endless elixirs and teaching her advanced techniques, helping her forcibly break through to the Golden Core stage in just two months.

She was more than qualified to serve as a furnace now.

And yet, whenever he stood by her bedside, his mind kept drifting to another face.

So, once again, he scaled Yuheng Peak under cover of night.

As expected, he was turned away again.

Sighing beneath the icy snow of Jiangxue Peak, Immortal Qingxu descended halfway down the mountain.

“Master? What brings you here so late?”

Ye Lingtang opened her door, and upon seeing the proud figure standing outside, her face lit up with joy.

Her master spoiled her even more than he had in her past life. She was the only one in the sect to receive such favor. Even losing the affection of her four senior brothers didn’t feel like much of a loss.

After all, the Immortal Sect Tournament was only a month away. With her current cultivation, she was confident she’d crush the competition.

As for Su Ci—once the Demon Lord abducted her, she’d be out of the picture.

When that happened, the senior brothers would return to her side. That would be the peak of her life.

Qingxu looked at her beaming face.

She was pretty, sure, and obedient—his carefully trained little furnace. But for some reason, he felt a flicker of disgust.

Still, slaying demons was a noble cause for the greater good. Sacrificing his mortal body meant nothing in comparison.

So he spoke:

“I want to dual cultivate with you.”

Ye Lingtang froze, her mind going blank.

“M-Master… what did you just say?”

They were master and disciple! How could they do such a thing?

If her senior brothers found out she’d slept with their master, how would they look at her? Would they still dote on her like they did in her past life?

Things were fine the way they were now—her master adored her, the other disciples admired her. She didn’t want to get too close to any of them.

Qingxu had expected this reaction.

With a sigh, he flicked his sleeve, and her vision went black as she fainted into his arms.

He didn’t need to explain himself to ants.

It had been a moment of weakness, of emotional chaos, that made him say it aloud. He’d thought that if she refused…

But so what if she did? Was he supposed to go beg Su Ci again and humiliate himself?

She’d never agree to dual cultivate with him.

When Ye Lingtang awoke in her room, her body ached all over.

She tried to get out of bed to put on her shoes, but her legs gave out under her, and she fell hard to the floor.

She had no idea what had happened.

She vaguely remembered someone visiting last night—but the more she thought about it, the fuzzier it became, like a dream slipping away.

Grumbling, she popped two bottles of body-strengthening pills and leaned against a pillar for support. After a long moment, her gaze darkened, full of frustration, and she kicked at the bed with annoyance.

Stupid bed. Too cold, too hard.

In the Demon Realm, her mattress had been made of the softest beast king pelts, and her pillow was stuffed with downy phoenix feathers. When had she ever suffered like this?

Su Ci was getting off easy. Even if the Demon Lord kidnapped her during the tournament, she’d probably end up enjoying it!

The more Ye Lingtang thought about it, the more bitter she became. She decided to go meditate in the quiet chamber.

The moment she sat cross-legged, though, she noticed something wrong with the flow of spiritual energy in her dantian.

She’d just reached the Golden Core stage a few days ago—so why did it feel like her cultivation had regressed?

She didn’t dwell on it.

She simply assumed she’d overused pills like candy and destabilized her foundation. Nothing a little supplementation couldn’t fix.